may
seem, in the hands of a capable actor, a real character, whereas a real
character may seem, in the hands of an incapable actor, an indifferent
acting part. Rip Van Winkle, for example, was a wonderful acting part for
Joseph Jefferson; but it was, from the standpoint of the dramatist, not a
character at all, as any one may see who takes the trouble to read the
play. Beau Brummel, also, was an acting part rather than a character. And
yet the layman, under the immediate spell of the actor's representative
art, is tempted in such cases to ignore that the dramatist has merely
modeled an image in the sand.

Likewise, on a larger scale, the layman habitually fails to distinguish
between a mere theatric entertainment and a genuine drama. A genuine drama
always reveals through its imagined struggle of contesting wills some
eternal truth of human life, and illuminates some real phases of human
character. But a theatric entertainment may present merely a deftly
fabricated struggle between puppets, wherein the art of the actor is given
momentary exercise. To return to our comparison, a genuine drama is carved
out of marble, and incorporates, consciously or not, the Intention of
Permanence; whereas a mere theatric entertainment may be likened to a group
of figures sculptured in the sand.

Those of us who ask much of the contemporary theatre may be saddened to
observe that most of the current dramatists seem more akin to the sand-man
than to Praxiteles. They have built Courts of Honor for forty weeks, rather
than temples to Poseidon for eternity. Yet it is futile to condemn an
artist who does a lesser thing quite well because he has not attempted to
do a greater thing which, very probably, he could not do at all. Criticism,
in order to render any practical service, must be tuned in accordance with
the intention of the artist. The important point for the critic of the
sand-man at Coney Island is not to complain because he is not so enduring
an artist as Praxiteles, but to determine why he is, or is not, as the case
may be, a better artist than the sand-man at Atlantic City.

X

THE QUALITY OF NEW ENDEAVOR

Many critics seem to be of the opinion that the work of a new and unknown
author deserves and requires less serious consideration than the work of an
author of established reputation. There is, however, an important sense in
which the very contrary is true. The function of the critic is to help the
public to discer